Are Tracy Emin's Twisted Knickers Art?

I arrived down at the allotment one morning recently to find the rain still pouring down and the ground too wet to work. Nosher was already sat in his shed, wine glass in hand. My knock at the door was anwered with:
'Abandon hope and enter, in that order!'
Having ensconced myself on the second deckchair inside, a wine glass was thrust into my hand and immediately filled with parsnip wine.
'Are you planning on sitting in here all day?' I enquired.
'No choice, really' replied Nosher 'my wife wants to be left alone to do some work for her latest evening class - the deal is if it's still raining at 4pm she'll drive over and take me home'.
It transpired that Mrs Nosher had wanted to do something useful at nightschool this year, but all the artisan courses were fully subscribed, so she ended up in Art and Design.
'So what's useful about Art and Design?' I couldn't resist asking.
'Advanced Welding' said Nosher ruminatively 'she's got to make something artistic out of bits of rusty twisted metal. That's why, at this very moment, she's in my garage with the welding torch sticking bits of metal together'.
'How does she think that might be useful?'
'Well, ever since doing architecture A-level a couple of years ago' Nosher explained 'she's had this idea about building a futuristic house with a steel frame, and for that she needs to know how to weld'.
'Still' I said 'she might show real talent and be able to sell her work - imagine that - some idiots will pay good money for any old rubbish these days'.
Nosher nodded sagely.
'Well, if Tracy Emins can get some pretentious prat to pay several thousand pounds for her unmade bed, when there are millions of teenagers out there who would happily hand theirs over for the price of a bottle of cider, then all we have to do is find some rich idiots and we're in the money'.
'It's not as if we know that many people with lots of money and absolutely no taste, is it Nosh?'
'I know lots of people with no taste - finding ones that haven't spent all their money on the latest widescreen TV is the problem' commented Nosher.
'While we're working on that little problem, perhaps we could think of a title for your wife's piece of welding sculpture' I suggested.
'Tracy Emin's Twisted Knickers' said Nosher emphatically.
'But is that art?' I said, feeling that somehow we had got to the bottom of the issue.
'I couldn't give a monkeys' said Nosher 'so long as there's an idiot out there who'll give me some money for it'.
After a long sleep, during which I kept dreaming of finding myself holding Tracy Emin's Twisted Knickers whilst everyone down at the pub laughed at me, we awoke to find that a small blue car had appeared on the muddy track a hundred yards away.
'Hope she hasn't been waiting for too long!' Nosher said 'or my tea will be going cold. Would you like a lift home?'
As we trudged through the mud towards the little blue car, I couldn't help thinking that it's a crazy world in which rich people are prepared to pay thousands of pounds for someone else's unmade bed whilst millions of people around the world haven't even got enough money to buy any food with.
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